


The TFW Protocol

by acunamatatta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 666, Action, Bounty Hunters, Dean - Freeform, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fanfic, Military, Multi, Navy, Navy SEALs, SEALs, Sam - Freeform, Secret Service - Freeform, Sexy, Team Free Will, benny - Freeform, cas - Freeform, first, meg - Freeform, protocol, ruby - Freeform, tfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acunamatatta/pseuds/acunamatatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duke Orzino and Seth McKinley have been partners for what seems like a lifetime. For the last six years, they have dedicated their time to hunting the nation's most elusive criminals for a mediocre bounty that only pays for the gas that fuels their impala and the greasy diner food they feast on throughout the countless cities and towns they visit. Although not a glamorous job, it grants them the refuge and peace of mind robbed from them by a traitorous friend who framed them of a most dishonorable crime six years ago. Now, a stranger associated with their past has come searching for them. He wants to offer them a deal that will clear their names and give them the opportunity for a real life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The TFW Protocol

Chapter 1:

Inside a grimy motel room scarcely furnished with two Queen-size beds, Duke Orzino and Seth McKinley stared at the cracks on the ceiling. Their backs plastered against their overly firm mattresses and their heads buzzing to the rhythm of the AC vent.   
Just another day on the road working the jobs most bounty hunters wouldn't dare to.   
“You know,” Duke drawled, his voice crunching through the buzz of the air conditioner like a pair of boots on gravel. “If I ever have to wrestle another transvestite hooker to the ground again, I will officially lose my shit.”  
“You didn’t have it so bad, dude,” Seth said. He sat up on his bed with a groan, stretching his arms high above his head to crack his tender joints. “I got the pimp. Talk about a wide load! I thought he’d flatten me to death.”  
Duke grimaced in commiseration. He reached for the whiskey bottle on the bedside table. Empty. He was hammered and on his way to harvesting a deadly hangover in the morning. The smart thing to do would be to call it a night and go to bed. Unfortunately, doing the smart thing wasn’t his style. He jolted out of bed with minimum groaning though his muscles ached in protest. “We’re out of booze,” he told Seth, patting his jean pockets for the car keys. “Wanna do some good-old-fashioned bar crawling?”  
Seth shook his head. “Hell no, dude. We’re getting outta here in four hours. One of us needs to be awake enough to drive.” He plopped back onto his bed with a loud sigh. “Spill some for me.”  
Duke nodded, shutting the light off on his way out the door.   
He strolled to the parking lot swaying in his boots. As he reached his ’67 Chevy Impala, he saw himself reflected on the black metal hood. Tousled hair and bloodshot green eyes greeted him above a dark five o’clock shadow. He looked like he’d been chewed up, spit out, and stepped on. Definitely too drunk to drive Babygirl. But not drunk enough to go back to his room. _Walking it is_ , he thought to himself.  
The walk downtown turned out shorter than he had estimated. Twenty minutes of marching down silent suburban streets—clones of each other with their spacious front yards and identical mail boxes—and he’d arrived. The heart of Waterville’s nightlife consisted of a handful of bars and two dance clubs. He entered the first place on his side of the street, a sports bar called Naked. Though seemingly small, the place burst with people. Locals, college students, and travelers passing through on their way up to Canada, danced to the beat of the loud electronic music. Not exactly his kind of joint, but Duke didn’t feel picky.   
He pulled out a stool next to the bar, straddling it with a sigh.   
“Bourbon,” he told the bartender. “Neat.”  
The 20-something bartender wore a skimpy black tank top that exposed a strip of skin around her pierced belly button. Snug jean shorts hugged her hips and tall heeled-boots enclosed her calves. “Coming right up, sugar.”  
Duke flashed his panty-dropper smile at her. But it lacked any real intent. Easy women usually suited his taste perfectly. Tonight, he craved something else. Lately, nothing he normally gravitated towards appealed to him as much. Being a bounty hunter prevented him from staying in the same city or town longer than a week. Yet somehow, he invariably ended up frequenting the same type of dives and sleeping with the same kind of women. Everything gets old after a while, he guessed. Maybe he was getting old.  
“On the house,” the sultry blonde murmured. As she set his drink down, she slid a napkin across the bar to him with a long manicured finger.   
Duke looked down at the name scribbled underneath her number. “Thank you, Maggie.”  
“I get off in an hour,” she said.  
“Good to know,” Duke murmured. _I’ll be gone by then._  
She winked at him before rushing away to serve other patrons.   
He tossed back most of his drink in one long gulp. The amber liquid slid down his throat smoothly, igniting a path to his belly. Maggie would make for some nice company. She was sexy, no doubt. But in two days he’d remember her as brunette named Jane, and a week after, she would join the list of nameless faces filed in the back of his mind along with the names of the countless cities he has worked in. For once, he desired a memorable conquest. Someone he’d be at least a little bit disappointed to leave behind.   
The music changed from techno to soft rock. Except for a few couples, most people started to clear the dance floor. The scraping of the bar stool next to him caught Duke’s attention. A lean man in a trench coat took a sit on it and waved for the bartender. Maggie returned.  
The same predatory grin spread across her face. This time she directed it towards the new customer. “What can I get you, sweetie?”   
“Samuel Adams,” the man responded in a bland tone. His voice, far from bland, emerged low and crisp from the back of his throat.   
Duke stared at him. Dark brown hair stood out tousled on his head. His trench coat hung from his broad squared shoulders as if it were a cape. The loosened tie looped around his neck gave him a tired appearance. But next to Duke, the man radiated a vibrant energy. He held himself erect on the stool as if he never slouched, yet at the same time, he seemed relaxed. He received his beer and promptly took a gulp from the long necked bottle before setting it down. His thumb and forefinger played with the condensation at the base, drawing gentle circles.  
“Your staring could be construed as rude by certain people,” the man spoke without looking up.   
Jolted from his deep scrutiny, Duke looked away from the stranger and cleared his throat. “Shit, sorry!”  
The man chuckled. “Not to worry. Fortunately for you, I don’t mind.”  
Duke chanced a look back at him, unfamiliar warmth creeping into his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to—I just, uh, kinda zoned out.”   
A bright grin spread across the man’s lips, showing off white teeth and a hint of a dimple beneath his speckled facial hair. “I understand,” he said extending his hand. “The name is Angel. Angel Cassidy. But call me Cass, everyone does.”  
Duke didn’t hesitate to grasp Cass’ hand in his, shaking it twice. “I’m Duke.”  
“I know,” Cass murmured. “I’m here to meet you.”  
Goosebumps prickled his skin as Duke scanned Cass’ face for a spark of familiarity or the tiniest hint of a joke. The man remained mysterious.  
“You sure about that?” Duke asked. “Because I don’t remember getting set up for a blind date. And I’ve never seen you before in my life, buddy.”  
Cass shook his head and patiently took another sip of his beer before explaining. “I’ve been looking for you for quite some time now, Duke Orzino. But you and Seth never seem to stay at one place for too long.”  
“What the—  
“Oh yes,” Cass cut him off. “I know Seth too—well, I know of him. Just as I know of you.” He turned back to stare at Duke with what seemed like…admiration? “You two are still quite something, aren’t you? Even as _bounty hunters._ ”  
The way he intoned the last two words warned Duke that he might know much more about him and his partner’s vocation. “Okay, enough with the flirting,” Duke snapped. “Who the hell are you, man? And why are you looking for me?”  
Cass’ eyes stilled with seriousness. “I am the Master Chief Petty Officer of Unit TFW-666. I’m here because we have work for you.”


End file.
